It's Not A Date
by Dmarx
Summary: Because technically they've been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates.
1. 2x14 - The Third Man

_Summary: Because technically they've been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: Trying something a little different here because apparently I've been bitten by the "what-if" bug that's been going around. This will be a collection of missing scenes from all of the non-dates between our favorite couple. Prompts are more than welcome!_

_Thanks to Andy for the beta, Kelli for the suggestions, and Jade for the lovely cover art!_

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**It's Not A Date**

* * *

**2x14 – The Third Man**

It's not a date. At least that's what she keeps telling herself. It's just dinner between two colleagues who had to work late and are now starving.

Never mind the fact that just hours ago they were dressed to the nines at a fancy restaurant, both on dates with _other_ people. People they ditched in lieu of solving a murder together, and Kate refuses to acknowledge that her willingness to leave Mr. Sexy-Puppy-Saving firefighter had to do with anything other than the inherent urgency of her job.

There was a lead to follow. She followed it.

With her shadow turned partner who snuck off to the 'bathroom' to listen in on her phone calls and was right there next to her as they put the pieces together in a bout of sexy banter that Kate refuses to term anything besides 'working together.'

Said work left them starving and with the late hour it is really not practical to cook something at home, leaving a meal out as the best option. Which is the _only _reason Kate is currently linking her arm through Castle's and allowing him to lead her to the elevator.

She's not looking forward to this. Not even in the slightest. And she's most certainly _not _twirling her hair around her fingers and dipping her head in embarrassment. It's merely a subconscious reaction to the situation. That's all.

"So, Detective Beckett," he says in a low voice as the elevator doors slide closed in front of them. "Are you a chocolate or a vanilla shake kind of girl?"

She raises an eyebrow, refusing to divulge. He claims he likes a mystery; in that case, she's never again going to give him a straight-up answer to anything. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Well since we're headed to a restaurant for burgers and shakes, it stands to reason that I _will_ know in just a few minutes," he points out, all smug and obnoxious and why is he so irritatingly attractive all the time?

"Then you can just wait a few minutes to find out," Kate shoots back, not missing a beat.

"Or I could figure it out now with the clues in front of me."

"Clues?"

He nods eagerly. "You were wearing a red dress tonight, which, by the way, was very sexy."

"Castle," she snaps, unlinking their arms and stepping to the side, effectively putting an end to that line of conversation.

"Right. Red dress, which suggests that you're daring, you like to stand out."

Kate rolls her eyes. There's no way he can possibly be basing this on anything factual.

"You were on a date to a fancy restaurant, and you dressed up for it, suggesting that you secretly have a romantic side."

Another eye roll, and as the elevator doors re-open Kate steps out, leaving him behind with his musings.

Unsurprisingly he catches up to her within seconds, still engrossed in his mission. "You also use cherry-scented shampoo or body wash or something which, by the way, the idea of you in the shower all soapy and..."

Kate whirls around. "Castle. Say another word of that sentence and you will be going to Remy's alone."

"Right," he replies, mentally cataloguing the sexy image of a riled-up Kate Beckett who clearly is enjoying his company more than she wants to let on despite her feigned anger. The flush of her cheeks and the way she keeps touching her hair is a dead giveaway.

"As I was saying, cherry scented body wash, which also suggests a penchant for romance."

They pause on the street corner as traffic flows through the intersection and though most of what he's saying sounds absurd, part of her is secretly interested to hear his final decision.

"Vanilla is plain, boring. Chocolate is rich and decadent. But both are rather...unsophisticated."

"And?" Kate queries as he falls silent, steps into the crosswalk as the cars come to a halt.

"And nothing," he replies, this infuriating man who always manages to snag her attention and reel her in and then leave her hanging, wanting more despite the voice in her head attempting to remind her that she doesn't care what he thinks.

She disguises her disappointment with another annoyed eye roll.

"Wow, Castle. That was some deep profiling there."

He shrugs, far too pleased with himself. "I don't get paid the big bucks to write for nothing."

Kate pulls open the door of the restaurant, is tempted not to hold it for him just to get back at him for being so irritating. But he's right on her heels, following her across the diner as she selects a booth.

Castle carefully sets her dress on the cushioned bench next to him, discards his suit jacket before taking his seat across from her, and Kate refuses to consider the musculature of his upper arms, the broad chest beneath his shirt, and the way he would look naked and panting in her bed.

Because that is _never_ going to happen. She doesn't even like him. Doesn't want to be here with him right now. She would much rather be at home curled up with a glass of wine and a good book rather than preparing to eat burgers and shakes with her favorite author. It is simply the most reasonable way to assuage her hunger.

For food. Not for him.

He seems to catch onto her train of thought, the vehement denials whirling through her mind, smiles in that easy-going way of his.

"Enjoying yourself, Detective?"

Her head snaps up. "What?"

"I asked if you're enjoying yourself," he repeats, eyes twinkling knowingly.

"Enjoying my evening spent in the company of my arrogant shadow who seems to enjoy nothing more than to annoy me to no end?" she asks sardonically. "Why of course."

"You're lying," he accuses, and for goodness sake, _why_ did she not back out while she had a chance? Furthermore, why is she still sitting here? It would be simple to reach under the table and grab her dress, leave the restaurant, and hail a cab home.

"Keep telling yourself that," Kate shoots back, beyond annoyed at the ways he manages to sneak through her defenses and uncover everything about her.

And when a waitress comes to take their order and he asks for two strawberry shakes, it's all she can do not to stand up and walk out right then.

Because he's right about her. Again.

* * *

"How's your shake?" he asks smugly after a few moments in which they eat quietly, and she should have known better than to assume that his silence was anything but temporary.

"Tastes like a milkshake," she replies, popping a handful of fries into her mouth.

"I take it you approve of my 'deep profiling skills?'" he asks smugly, fingers curling into quotation marks as he speaks.

Kate bites off a large chunk of her burger to avoid having to answer.

"Now that I think about it, strawberry suits you."

"Is that so?"

"Sure," he replies eagerly, enjoying this far too much. When she doesn't respond, he presses on. "It's unique and different and most people judge it hastily and unfairly instead of actually giving themselves a chance to realize that they like it."

Kate chokes on another bite of fries, washes it down with a gulp of the shake that he just compared her to and that thought alone is nearly enough to make her choke again.

Because did he _really _just say that he _likes_ her?

It's obvious that he's attracted to her. He's been anything but subtle about that since the day they met. But _likes _her? That implies...more. More than just the desire to get her into bed (though not for a lack of trying, especially at the present time).

"Here." Castle pushes her glass of water across the table and she reluctantly obliges, takes a long swig. The cool liquid calms her throat and she swallows slowly, allowing her brain a chance to regroup.

"Thanks," she offers with a nod, still not meeting his eyes.

"Anytime, Detective," he replies easily, reaching across and stealing a few of her fries.

"Castle!" Kate smacks the back of his hand but he doesn't even pause, merely lifts the fries to his mouth and bites down on all of them at once, and he is enjoying this _far_ too much for her liking. Arrogant jackass.

"What?" he asks, voice dripping with innocence though his eyes portray a very different story.

"Eat your own fries."

He shrugs, returns to his burger, though he thankfully spends the rest of the night eating from his own plate.

Because sharing food is something that one does on a date. Something one does with someone close to them. This scenario is neither, despite the fact that Castle clearly sees it that way.

He pays for the bill. He insists upon carrying her dress and walking her all the way back to her apartment. He guides her through the diner door and around more than one corner with his hand on her lower back, strong and warm and _no,_ she does _not_ wish she could feel it against her bare skin. Absolutely not.

When they arrive at the front door of her building he stalls, clearly not ready for the evening to be over. Which is exactly why she is putting an end to this...outing...right now.

"Thanks for dinner, Castle," she offers.

He smiles, raises an eyebrow as he speaks. "Thanks for indulging me. Maybe next time I'll convince you to stick around for dessert."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Is that how you pick up all the ladies? Cheesy lines like that?"

"Did it work?"

The eye roll is bigger this time to cover up the fact that his offer of...dessert...is secretly all sorts of tempting. "Wow, Castle."

"Call me cheesy, Detective, but I did convince you to go out with me."

"This wasn't a date, Castle."

"Really?" he mock pouts. "Because you sure seemed to be enjoying yourself."

She refuses to admit that he's almost, maybe, kind of right. His ego does not need any more stroking. Neither do other parts of him.

"Shut up, Castle."

"I'm just saying," he presses. Naturally. "We had dinner, I carried your dress..."

"Only because you insisted that I'm apparently not capable of doing so myself," she interrupts.

"Nevertheless, tonight possesses all the signs of a date, Detective." Dammit, how does he manage to make smug look so sexy?

"No, no it doesn't," she shoots back.

Castle raises and eyebrow, a challenge. "And why is that?"

"Because you're not kissing me goodnight." Kate snags the garment bag from his hands, turns away from him and crosses to the front door of her building.

She grasps the door handle, tosses one last witty remark over her shoulder, and he's pretty sure he will never get enough of her snarky, badass attitude. "And because this is never happening again."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	2. 3x14 - Lucky Stiff

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: Thank you all for the lovely response to the first chapter! Your comments and reviews are much appreciated :)_

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**3x14 – Lucky Stiff**

* * *

"Just give me a few minutes," Kate says as she steps into her apartment, Castle on her heels.

She leaves him in the living room without a backwards glance, crosses to her bedroom, and he can't help but allow his mind to wander as to what her bedroom might look like and what they could be doing in there and what she looks like right now, taking her clothes off behind that door. Just a fairly thin sheet of wood separates the two of them right now and she has a boyfriend but Castle loves her too and he just...

Needs to get a grip.

He needs to get a grip, or he's not going to make it through the night. The thought of going to a club with Kate Beckett already has him completely on edge. So he calls forth his self-restraint and forces himself to sit down on the sofa and stare at his feet rather than allow his eyes...and mind...to wander.

When she appears a few minutes later, his carefully constructed control all but vanishes.

He gapes, can't help himself, eyes raking over her form, and it's so un-gentlemanly but he can't help himself because she's wearing a tight black dress that falls high on her thighs and her heels make her legs look a mile long and she's just so...

"Castle," she scolds. He blinks and forces himself to look away, but not before he catches the flush of her cheeks and the way her pupils have dilated under his perusal.

"Sorry." He shakes his head. "I mean...you just...look really good," he stammers awkwardly, cursing his lack of eloquence.

"Uh, thanks," she replies, voice strained and tinged with more than a little arousal and she won't admit it but she feels a swell of pride at the fact that she can reduce her favorite author almost to speechlessness with just a dress.

Granted it's a very sexy dress, and she's well aware of that. But still...

"Let's, ummm, go," Castle offers after an awkward moment, standing and crossing to the door, eyes still resolutely _not _fixed on her.

"Right, sure." Kate slips into a jacket, grabs a clutch that contains her phone, keys, badge, and gun, and follows him out of her apartment. She just wants to get this over with. The thrill of going undercover wore off when she was a uniform and though it's always more interesting with Castle, hitting on a drug dealer slash potential murderer is never high on her priority list.

Plus, she's only been wearing this dress for five minutes and she already feels hot and flustered.

They haven't even made it to the club yet.

* * *

Castle takes a giant gulp of his drink, feels the alcohol burn down his throat, but he needs more. A lot more if he's going to survive the rest of the night. Because Kate Beckett is wearing an alluring black dress and she just went from soft and sexy and flirty to kicking a guy in the nuts and cuffing a sleazy drug dealer in under a minute.

All while wearing that barely-there dress and sky-high heels, her stunning curves and long legs highlighted so alluringly by her attire. Or lack thereof.

He takes another swig, nearly finishing his drink, but she's dealing with Oz and he still has her drink in his other hand and at this point he's probably going to down both of them within the next few minutes.

He does.

Unis are stationed just down the block just in case and Kate drags Oz out of the club, hands him over to them because he's been ogling her since the minute she approached him and it was semi-flattering at first but now it's just disgusting.

By the furious look on Castle's face as he glares at the back of the man's head, she's pretty sure he feels the same, although why she's even noticing this is a mystery to her.

An even greater mystery is why she kind of likes this possessive side of Castle. She hasn't even had any alcohol tonight so she decides it must just be the adrenaline of the undercover takedown that has her heart beating a confused rhythm in her chest.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Castle looks _good_ tonight, or the darkness of his eyes when she danced for him, or the way she caught him so blatantly checking out her ass.

Or the way that he's standing next to her now with his eyes not-subtly fixed on her chest.

She clears her throat and he snaps his eyes up, at least having the decency to look embarrassed, but she just raises an eyebrow at him before extending an arm.

"Can I have my coat please?"

Castle startles, realizes that it's not exactly warm outside and she's wearing...well, not much...and he's been standing there clinging to her coat while staring at her on the cold and dark sidewalks of Manhattan.

"Right, right, sorry," he hastily replies, rights the jacket and holds it open for her.

She wants to protest but she's cold and she has to get back to the precinct and after the sweaty disgustingness of that club she really just wants to go home and take a shower. So she turns obligingly, allows him to guide the garment up her arms and over her shoulders.

The shiver that races through her when he untucks her hair from her collar and his fingers accidentally brush the skin of her neck is just from the cold, she tells herself.

The flutter of her heart when he gently turns her and adjusts the collar in the front of her jacket is just the adrenaline draining from her body.

The way he guides her back to the Ferrari with a hand on her lower back is just him being a gentleman.

But when he hands Kate the keys once again and can't tear his eyes away from her as she drives them back to the precinct, hand dexterous on the gear shift, she really can't deny the heat in his eyes, the dark arousal staring back at her when she briefly flicks her gaze in his direction.

He wants her. Badly. He has since the moment she emerged from her bedroom over an hour ago.

She has a boyfriend and a job to do.

But she wants him too.

* * *

Castle can't decide if he's sad or relieved when Kate reappears wearing her work clothes.

Because he's had so many fantasies involving her and a lack of clothing and the interrogation room or various other enclosed spaces in the precinct.

And after tonight, with the club and the alcohol and the _dancing, _Kate Beckett interrogating someone while wearing a skimpy black number just might be his undoing.

Ah, who is he kidding? He's already completely undone. He has been since the day she sauntered away from him on the sidewalk two years back but after that _kiss _last week and that _moan_ and the little black dress and the heady gleam in her eyes as she danced for him, he doesn't stand a chance.

She may have a boyfriend but the way she looked at him in that club, undercover or not, told a very different story.

* * *

She wants him.

He wants her too.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	3. 2x07 - Famous Last Words

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: Not exactly a date since Martha and Alexis were there as well...but we can pretend it counts as one anyway._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**2x07 – Famous Last Words**

* * *

"Skye is performing tonight."

"Hayley's sister?" Kate asks, faltering only slightly as she continues filling out paperwork.

He nods, reaches out to trace the border of the name plaque that rests on her desk.

"And?" she asks when he doesn't elaborate.

"Just thought you might like to know," Castle offers with a noncommittal shrug.

She hums her response, signs the bottom of the form before setting it aside and starting on the next one, and then the next.

When Castle is still sitting there, completely motionless, eyes glued to her hunched form, Kate finally sets down her pen and lifts her head.

"What, Castle?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're still here," she gestures as though it is obvious. "So what do you want?"

"Why do I have to want something?"

Kate sighs. "Because the case is closed and your daughter is upset and yet you're sitting here watching me do paperwork."

"Point taken," he concedes.

She sighs again when he still says no more.

"Spit it out," Kate finally demands, fixing him with a stern glare.

He hesitates before clumsily blurting out his request. "Come with me."

"Excuse me?"

"Come with me tonight. With us."

"To Skye's concert?" she clarifies.

Castle nods. "I...you...it would mean a lot to Alexis," he manages, a poor cover-up but he hopes she understands. Somehow he doesn't think that 'I'd like to spend the evening with you' would go over too well at this point.

"Castle, I barely know her," Kate protests weakly.

"But you solved the case," he points out. "You found the truth. And I know Alexis is thankful for that."

"I, ummm, have paperwork," she hedges, because it's hard to argue with his logic but perhaps she can excuse her way out of this.

"It can wait," he offers easily. "And the concert isn't for three hours still. Plenty of time."

She hums a non-answer, retrieves her pen and bends back over the paperwork. Maybe he'll take her lack of answer as his cue to leave.

She should have known better than to expect that.

After a few more minutes she tries a different tactic. "Castle, go be with Alexis."

He sighs, finally takes her hint and stands. "I will. Just..." he pauses, bends down to gather her attention. "Come, Kate. Please."

He leaves without waiting for her reply.

* * *

When she shows up at the concert venue, he doesn't look the least bit surprised.

* * *

"Hello, Detective Beckett," Castle husks, stepping up behind her and standing far, _far _too close. She can feel his breath on the back of her neck and the heat radiating from his body and she fights the urge to elbow him and force him out of her personal space.

He spends way too much time invading it, and she refuses to admit that it has any impact on her whatsoever. Except for annoying her.

She whirls around, steps back as she lifts her eyes to find his face way too close to hers. "Hi Castle," she offers awkwardly.

"Oh, Detective Beckett," Martha offers with a flourish. "So glad you could join us. Richard mentioned that you'd be here."

Kate wants to be annoyed at Castle for being so sure that she would show that he told his family. She also wants to smack the smug smile off of his face right now.

Instead she replies politely, "Hello, Martha."

Castle steps closer again, ushers Kate over to the spot they scoped out upon arrival. Alexis stands there with a cluster of candles in her hands and Kate assumes there must be some sort of candlelight vigil planned.

"Hi, Detective Beckett," the girl offers as the other three rejoin her.

She smiles, can't help herself, because big Castle may be annoying as hell but little Castle has always been nothing but well-behaved and sweet. "Hi Alexis. Are you doing okay?"

The girl shrugs, hesitates as though she's not quite sure how to answer. "I will be." It's slightly awkward, the relationship between them somewhere between familiar and strangers, as though neither knows exactly how to act. "Thanks for coming," she adds as an afterthought.

"Of course," Kate replies with a smile. She's here for Alexis after all, not for her father.

Absolutely not.

Up on stage, a sound guy taps the mic, speaks a brief introduction, and all the attendees begin to congregate in front of the stage. Somewhere near the front the first candle is lit, and individuals begin to pass the flame around. When it reaches them, Castle tilts his candle toward Kate's, reaches out with his free hand and covers hers, helps to angle the candle just so. She wants to roll her eyes at his ridiculous excuse to touch her but instead she finds herself fighting to remain steady beneath the heat of his palm.

He can probably feel the shakiness of her hand anyway but she silently hopes he can't hear the heavy beating of her heart, and how _does _a mere touch from him manage to have this kind of an impact on her? She doesn't even _like_ the guy. Her interest in anything about him or his life is strictly professional curiosity.

And she's only here for Alexis.

The music begins and Skye's voice croons through the microphone. Alexis sings along softly, her head resting on her dad's shoulder, and Castle not-so-sneakily leans closer to Kate, his shoulder brushing hers as he sways to the music. Kate rolls her eyes but goes with it, deciding that moving away would be too obvious.

It's not like his proximity matters anyway. It's just annoying is all.

The concert is short, just a few songs, but Castle takes every chance he gets between numbers to lean in close and speak to Kate. He brings up any topic he can think of, from the case to the weather to his daughter's taste in music. Kate plays along, indulges his incessant need to talk because, well, she can. And she might actually be a little bit thankful that he invited her. It's not really her kind of music but it's been a long time since she's been to a concert. And it's kind of nice.

When the concert ends and Castle once again covers her hand with his, steadying it as he blows out her candle for her, she changes her mind. It was nice to be here when he was paying attention to the concert and wrapping an arm around his daughter. Now it's just irritating and suffocating the way he keeps finding excuses to touch her. The candle incident. His hand on her back as they exit through the temporary fence set up for crowd control purposes. The way he leans in far closer than necessary to thank her for coming.

The way her entire body responds to the timbre of his voice, the sincerity in his tone.

The way her carefully crafted defenses seem to be worthless against him now despite the fact that there's really nothing she would like more than for him to _not _keep weaseling his way into her life and her...feelings...and everything. It's enough that he follows her around all day and always has a snarky comment for every situation. But now he's in her head and he sticks his nose into her work and writes books about her and it's just...beyond annoying.

And when he makes an appearance in her dreams that night, leaving her flustered and baffled upon waking, she decides that maybe annoying is too tame of a descriptor.

Maybe 'incredibly frustrating' is much more accurate.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	4. 4x11 - Till Death Do Us Part

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: Thank you to everyone for your lovely reviews! And if there's any 'non-date' you'd like to see, please let me know!_

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**4x11 – Till Death Do Us Part**

* * *

"Shall we?"

Kate smiles, links her arm through his and murmurs some sort of response but Castle doesn't catch it over the pounding of his heart, the blood rushing in his ears.

Because Kate Beckett is now his wedding date and they're walking down the aisle together and it's not _their _wedding and she's not wearing a white dress but in the images his mind is invoking, she looks very much like a stunning bride.

The room is already filling up and they slide into the small gap on one end of a bench, Castle's fantasy coming to an abrupt end as she un-links their arms and steps in in front of him. There's enough room for the both of them but just barely, and Castle can feel the heat of Kate's thigh on the bench next to his. He squirms uncomfortably, a rather unsubtle effort to put a bit of space between them because between the wedding atmosphere and her dress and her smile and the way she so casually suggested that perhaps third time was the charm, Castle is fairly certain he's not going to make it through the night without kissing her.

* * *

A soft smile graces Kate's lips all through the ceremony, and Castle spends the entire time subtly glancing back and forth between the happy couple at the front of the room and the beautiful woman sitting next to him.

For as much as she pretends to avoid seriously considering the idea of marriage (and can he blame her, really, given the number of cheating spouses she deals with on a weekly basis?), he can see in her eyes that she's entranced by the beauty and magic of the day. That her inner romantic is peeking through the cracks.

Castle doesn't miss the sidelong glance she sends his way as Ryan and Jenny share their first kiss as husband and wife. He smirks to himself, feels a wave of hope and love wash over him.

Maybe this isn't so out of reach after all.

* * *

"Dance with me," Castle murmurs, setting his drink aside and fixing his eyes on Kate.

Her eyes lift to his. "What?"

He stands and extends a hand. "Dance with me, Kate."

She barely suppresses a shiver at the sound of her first name rolling off of his tongue and before her mind has a chance to concoct a set of excuses, she's setting aside her own glass and taking his hand, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.

They find an open space near the middle of the floor and Castle wastes no time in wrapping an arm firmly around her waist and holding her close. Kate hesitates before looping her free arm around his neck, linking her fingers through his as he clings to her right hand. She feels his arm tighten a bit as he cradles her lower back, guiding her as he gently sways to the music.

She spends most of the first song avoiding meeting his eyes because the way he's been looking at her this afternoon is anything but innocent and there are far too many emotions in his gaze that she's not sure she's ready to face. She's getting there. She's at least accepted her own feelings for him now and instead of ignoring the heat she feels rushing to her cheeks or blaming her erratic heartbeat on the champagne, she accepts that he's the cause for all of it.

She knows how she feels about him.

And she can see in his eyes how he feels about her.

Which is why this dance has so quickly turned into more than a dance.

During the first song, Castle tries every tactic he can think of to coax her eyes up to his, but to no avail. When the music ends and a new melody begins, he refuses to loosen his hold on her. Not that she wants to walk away, exactly. The festive atmosphere of the wedding is allowing them to do this without the repercussions of _actually doing this_ and she is enjoying this...test run...of sorts.

Kate lifts her eyes to his briefly, smiles when she sees him grinning down at her, and he holds her closer still, arm strong around her lower back as he guides their joined hands in to rest on his chest. She feels a blush rising in her cheeks, dips her head shyly. But for once Castle doesn't push her, simply smiles to himself as he feels her lean into him slightly to rest her head on his shoulder. He tilts his head in response, temple coming to rest against hers as they sway softly to the music.

Across the room, Espo is dancing with Lanie and Castle catches Lanie's eye, sees her smile to herself and then speak under her breath to Javi. He twirls them to catch a view himself and Castle throws a small smile in his direction, runs his hand gently up and down the lower curve of Kate's spine.

She shivers unexpectedly, feels it ripple through her entire body, because she's at a wedding dancing with Castle and she knows she's not ready to dive in just yet but she never wants to leave his arms.

Ever.

Four songs later, however, she decides that maybe a bit of space between them would be nice because between his touch and his proximity and his warm breath in her ear, Kate's not sure how much longer she can contain herself.

So when the music ends she steps back slightly, lifts her eyes to find Castle gazing at her adoringly, completely smitten.

Kate smiles back, nods toward the bar. "Want to grab another round of drinks? My feet could use a break."

A convenient excuse, and entirely true, actually, but not the real reason for her suggestion.

Castle shrugs, tries to disguise the flash of sadness or disappointment or something that flashes through his eyes but Kate catches it just before he manages to squelch it.

"Don't worry, there's plenty more time to dance later," she murmurs, squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

His eyes lighten at that, her promise for more, and he finally drops his arms, allows them to separate. But he's right on her heels as they make their way to the bar and he sits closer to her than before and she feels a pang of disappointment in herself that she isn't ready to just lean in and kiss him right now. Because she can tell that he's loving every minute of today and she is too but she feels like she's giving him a false sense of hope as to how recovered she still is _not._

She's better. She's a lot better, and today is actually helping immensely because she's realized in the last few hours that opening up and letting Castle in isn't really all that difficult or terrifying. But she still has a long way to go before the PTSD is completely gone and before she truly feels comfortable saying that her mom's case and her own shooting aren't still haunting her.

Still, she feels the urge to give him some sort of reassurance, a promise that he's not waiting for nothing and that she _is_ working on being better.

Before she can decide how best to convey this, Lanie swoops in, insists upon stealing a dance with Kate, and she really can't say no to her best friend. Besides, maybe Lanie's advice is exactly what she needs right now.

Kate sets her drink aside, rests a hand on Castle's forearm as she leans in to speak in his ear. His hand automatically settles on her hip, squeezing gently.

"Save me a dance for later, 'kay?" she says in a low voice and his hand reflexively tightens before loosening and dropping back to his side.

He swallows heavily as she leans back, offers him a bright smile, hoping that for now that is enough.

She catches him watching her as she and Lanie dance and chat, grins at him from across the room, and he smiles back, eyes twinkling.

When they dance together again later he holds her closer than before, his grip tender yet possessive as both arms come to rest on her lower back.

When he looks at her, she feels like the only woman in the room.

When he kisses her on the cheek before she slides out of the cab he insisted they share, she blushes furiously, completely helpless against it.

Kate squeezes his hand, leaves him with a dazzling smile and twinkling eyes and a promise of 'tomorrow,' and Castle spends the rest of the night feeling more hopeful than he has in a long time.

Because Kate said that maybe third time's the charm and he hasn't been able get the images out of his mind since the words left her mouth.

By the time he's sprawled in bed hours later, wide awake but with a giant smile on his face, his mind is firmly made up. The next time he attends a wedding, he'll be the one standing at the altar.

And this time, when he makes the promise of forever, he's confident that it will never be broken.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	5. 3x19 - Law And Murder

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: I know a lot of you wanted to see this one. I hope this is what you had in mind._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**3x19 – Law And Murder**

_"So, it starts off as..."_

His eyes never leave her form as they descend to the ground floor, cross the lobby and exit the building. He walks next to her on the sidewalk, nearly bumping into more than one person because he's not watching where he's going. And maybe he should look forward instead of at the woman next to him but the way Kate is talking, so animatedly and passionately as she embraces her love for _Forbidden Planet..._

He already loves her but he just might be falling a little harder right now.

Because Kate Beckett is an unabashed sci-fi fan.

And she's taking him to a movie.

* * *

Despite two more attempts, he still can't convince her to stop for dinner first. But when she buys the largest size of soda, a giant tub of popcorn, and a box each of Junior Mints and Mike&Ikes, Castle decides that it really doesn't matter. Because she's bubbling with excitement and she's feeding his inner child and to be honest, she looks positively giddy right now.

She looks giddy and she's on a date with him.

* * *

Kate plops the soda cup in the cup holder on the armrest between their seats, hands him both boxes of candy, and rests the popcorn bucket on her lap. Castle smiles to himself as he settles in next to her, sets the candy aside for now and reaches his hand out for some popcorn.

The first time, she's paying attention, waits until his hand is out of the way before grabbing her own handful.

The second time, she's silencing her phone while absently reaching for more popcorn and their hands brush, her fingers against his. Castle startles, drops half of the popcorn back into the tub, and Kate smirks to herself but says nothing.

After all, with the way her heart is racing, she really has no room to talk.

She slips her phone back into her coat pocket, leans back against the theater seat and takes a lazy drink of soda. Castle swallows another bite of popcorn, reaches for his own soda before realizing that he doesn't have one.

Hmmm...

He's not going to make it through half a bucket of popcorn and a movie without at least a cup of water.

"I'm gonna...go get something to drink," he explains as he half-stands, motions towards the lobby.

"You can just," she reaches for her own giant soda, "here."

Castle freezes, hesitates. It's not that he's averse to it per se. He just...didn't think they were quite at that stage yet.

She takes another sip while he debates with himself, extends her arm again as he sits back down, completely unsure. But he's not exactly going to turn down her offer, not when she's gone to all the trouble to take him on a date in the first place. And not when she's willingly sharing her soda with him.

"Just drink it, Castle. I don't have cooties," Kate teases, waggling the cup at him, and this time he takes it from her, slowly lifts it to his mouth.

He takes a tentative swallow, catches her smirking at his hesitance, but she was just drinking from the straw that's currently in his mouth and the way her lips were wrapped around it and just...

Kate rolls her eyes, returns her attention to the popcorn, because amusing though it is that Richard Castle is being scared off by the prospect of sharing a soda with her, she has a feeling that if she keeps watching him he's never going to actually take a drink.

From the corner of her eye she sees him give in, take a giant swig of Sprite before returning the cup to the holder.

"Better?" she asks without lifting her head.

He shrugs, aiming for unaffected. "Sure, uh, thanks."

Kate rolls her eyes, shakes her head affectionately.

Nervous Castle is completely adorable.

* * *

Halfway through the movie, Kate catches Castle's eyes fixed on her and yeah, maybe she's kind of having fun teasing him, her tongue peeking out from between her lips as she pops a junior mint into her mouth. He's just so easy.

But she wants him to watch the movie because she's pretty sure he'll love it, so she tones it down a bit, relaxes into the oversized chair and fixes her eyes on the screen once again.

Five minutes later he's still staring at her.

"Watch the movie," she whispers, nudges his arm with her elbow.

He jerks his eyes back to the screen, forces himself to focus.

He lasts three minutes before his eyes are back on her, gaze glued to her mouth as she captures another candy with her lips, works it around with her tongue and he's pretty sure she knows exactly what she's doing to him but he's not really complaining. And it's not like he hasn't seen the movie a gazillion times.

She glances at him, the brightness of the screen reflecting in her eyes, and smiles softly. The same excitement that's been there since she first invited him along still lights up her face and Castle takes that as his cue to tear his focus away from her and back to the movie.

That's why they're here, after all. She invited him because she wanted him to watch the movie.

But it's so difficult to focus. Kate is absolutely gorgeous today, an openness in her every action that's not usually there, and he wants to savor it. Her smiles, her laughs, her enthusiasm, the way she's taken the lead and reeled him in even more than he already was.

He just...

God, he loves her. So much.

She nudges him again, nods to the screen to indicate that something good is coming up and he already knows and he likes this part too but it's so much more interesting to watch her reactions.

Truthfully, she doesn't seem to mind all that much.

* * *

"So what'd you think?" she asks curiously as the credits begin to roll across the screen.

The lights in the theater flicker back to life and Kate reaches for her jacket, stands and slides her arms into the sleeves in one fluid motion.

"I, uh, I liked it," Castle answers, busying himself with the buttons on his coat.

"Oh, you mean the twenty minutes of it that you actually watched?" she teases, collecting their leftover food containers before following him out of the theater.

"Hey now, I knew exactly what was going on," he protests. It's not untrue.

Kate throws an eye roll over her shoulder, stopping to discard their garbage and then extracting her phone from her pocket.

"How late is it?" Castle asks, peering over her shoulder, and he can't help but notice that there's not a single text or voicemail from Josh.

"Just after ten," she replies, pockets her phone again. "Come on," she nods toward the door, "I'll drive you home."

He can't help but smile because more time with Kate could never possibly be a bad thing. Especially tonight, because she's spent the last three hours giving a whole new meaning to the phrase 'sexy as hell' and he's not ready for that to end just yet.

Not that he's ever really ready for their time spent together to come to an end.

But tonight has already been orders of magnitude better than he planned when he woke this morning and though he's slightly saddened by the fact that he _can't_ kiss her good night, he has three hours' worth of new memories and the feeling of her hand on his arm as she tugs him towards the exit and out into the night.

* * *

"So you liked the movie?" Kate asks as she pulls out into traffic, and she sounds almost nervous, as though his answer means a lot to her.

It does.

His eyes are fixed on her like always, mesmerized by the way the city lights cast a shadowy glow across her features.

"Yeah, I did," he answers easily, because maybe he didn't really watch much of it tonight but he loves _Forbidden Planet_ and now that she took him to see it he loves it even more.

She nods to herself and they fall into silence for the remainder of the drive, his eyes on her and hers on the road. Only once she pulls up to the curb outside his place does he speak again.

"Thanks for inviting me tonight," he says softly, voice low and intimate, and she forces herself to meet his eyes despite the heat that's staining her cheeks. "I had a really good time."

She smiles shyly, brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm glad."

It's too polite, too stilted, because this is totally a date even though they're both currently pretending it isn't and dammit, he just wants to kiss her.

Instead he opts for resting a hand on her arm and leaning in close, and the shiver that races through her has nothing to do with his touch or his breath on her cheek or the deep tones of his voice so close to her ear.

"Good night, Kate."

By the time she manages to formulate an answer, he's already halfway across the sidewalk.

* * *

A year and a half later, she stumbles across his VHS copy of Forbidden Planet. The box is old and worn, the edges bent as though it's been watched on numerous occasions.

When she brings it to his attention he admits that yes, he has seen it. Multiple times. And the only reason he pretended not to have seen it was so he could go with her that night.

She wants to be annoyed but she honestly finds it adorable.

She swallows his apology with a kiss and indulges his desire to watch it again. They share a giant bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine. Castle actually watches the movie this time. Mostly. Though Kate distracts him every few minutes as she tilts her head to press kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his lips.

Because she can.

Because this time, it is a date.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	6. 1x07 - Home Is Where The Heart Stops

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: Apologies for the delay between chapters. I've been dealing with a lot lately. Thanks for your patience and thank you to those who have sent virtual hugs._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**1x07 – Home Is Where The Heart Stops**

She's nervous. Really nervous.

Her palms are sweaty and her heart is racing and her hand is shaky as she reaches out to ring the buzzer. And seriously, it's ridiculous. She's gone undercover countless times, and tonight is no different.

Sure, she'll be hitting the red carpet with Castle, but now that she knows how annoying he actually is in person, any aura he used to possess is completely gone, and being seen in public with him tonight is anything but exciting. She was done being star-struck over him about two minutes after she first met him.

Besides, it's not like she cares what Castle thinks of her hair or her dress. Or what he thinks about any part of her life, really. She couldn't care less.

Which is why it's ridiculous that she's nervous.

The door swings open then and Kate finds herself being ushered inside by Martha, greeted by his daughter, and she can't help but be polite because he may be irritating as hell but the rest of this unorthodox little family seems very sweet, offering her complements, fawning over her dress.

When Castle appears, looking dapper in a tux, Kate ignores the part of her brain that registers his appearance.

When he compliments her, she stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the wave of relief that washes over her.

But then Martha is clasping a beautiful necklace around her neck and Kate tries to protest but she doesn't stand a chance against the openness and love that just seems to exude from this family. They hardly even know her and yet here she is being cared for and donning a stunning piece of their jewelry.

Before she has a chance to really ponder the implications, Castle is ushering her out of the loft with a hand on her lower back, rattling on excitedly about something, though she really has no idea what because she's not listening.

No, she's a little more focused on calming the adrenaline that determinedly continues to course through her for who knows what reason.

Kate shakes her head almost imperceptibly, tries to snap herself out of this...funk...that seems to have settled over her.

Tonight is nothing that out of the ordinary, she reminds herself again. It doesn't even matter that she'll be with Castle because he'll be smiling for the cameras and flirting with dozens of women while Kate does her job, so she's not even going to be spending that much time with him. Just a basic undercover operation.

It'll only last a couple of hours, just long enough to find their guy and arrest him.

And it's not like it's actually a date.

* * *

Of course Castle rented a limo, and Kate soon finds herself being escorted across the sidewalk and into the oversized vehicle. She slides across the seat, leaving space for Castle to climb in next to her.

The bench seat is plenty large, enough room to fit at least three people. So naturally, Castle settles down right next to her, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from his body.

Not that she's paying attention to that or anything.

"So tell me, Detective," he husks, lips far too close to her ear, and she barely suppresses a shiver that quite obviously is from the chill of the spring air rather than his breath on her cheek. "When was the last time you dressed up and went out like this? Or do you always spend your evenings at work?"

Kate rolls her eyes, beyond annoyed that he would even ask such a thing. He makes it sound like she has no life, like she typically works long hours and then goes home alone to relax and sleep.

He's not exactly wrong, but that's _so_ not the point.

"You jealous that I might go on dates from time to time?" she shoots back, completely skirting his question.

"Me? Jealous?" he scoffs as though the mere idea is preposterous. "Psssh."

"Well then what's it to you?" Kate teases.

"I'm just curious to find out more about this side of you that wears fancy dresses and curls her hair."

"Well I didn't exactly have much choice when it came to the dress now, did I?" she asks sarcastically.

"Ah, so you do like it," he replies, clearly pleased with himself.

"I wore it because I couldn't very well _not_ wear it after you had it delivered," she answers abruptly.

She is so not having this conversation with him, and seriously, could the guy drive any slower? They have to be there by now, right?

"Just admit it, Detective; you like it."

"I'd like it more if it covered a bit more of me," Kate points out.

"And I'd like it much less," Castle replies without missing a beat.

She rolls her eyes. Again. Her eye sockets have gotten quite a workout since Castle started following her around.

"What exactly are you hoping to get out of tonight, Castle?" Kate drawls. "Because I'm pretty sure it's not happening."

"I thought we were trying to catch a murderer," he replies innocently.

"We are. But that doesn't require a limo and..." she gestures to herself, "this dress."

"Maybe not, but it's so much more fun that way."

Kate doesn't even bother to justify that with an answer.

"So what type of event is this, exactly?" she asks after an extended and awkward silence.

"It's a fundraiser."

"I got that much. But happens when we get there?"

"Well, there will probably be a red carpet," he answers as though it is obvious. "Hey, another plus...you'll get to have your picture taken with me."

Right. Because that's just what she needs.

"Castle."

"Right, sorry. Let's see...food, alcohol, an auction, lots of schmoozing. It'll be fun."

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Fortunately the limo comes to a stop then, and before Kate knows what's happening, the driver is opening the door and Castle is stepping out and offering his hand to Kate. She can already hear the melee of reporters lining the red carpet and the flashbulbs are almost a steady stream as she reluctantly takes the proffered hand and emerges from the car.

The schools her features, hoping to look like she's at least sort of enjoying herself. But the media and bright lights and Castle are not exactly her idea of a fun evening and apparently she's not quite as good at hiding it as she'd like to think she is.

"Boy, you really don't get out much, do you?" Castle says from her side.

Kate elbows him. Hard.

"I'm just saying," he continues, and apparently she should have hit him harder. "You don't have to look so miserable. Relax and smile. This is supposed to be fun."

"I must have missed that memo," she mutters, but before Castle can say more, a reporter is calling his name, and then Ryan and Esposito are looking her up and down with raised eyebrows and Castle is proudly strutting down the red carpet with her on his arm and she really just wants to get inside and get this over with.

The last thing she needs is to be seen in the tabloids with Castle.

* * *

When he abruptly insists upon dancing with her, she can't help but notice the feel of his warm hand spanning her lower back, skin on skin through the lacings of her dress. If she didn't know better, she'd think he planned that when he picked it out.

(He did.)

And she wants to be annoyed. She really does. But this is the first time all night that he hasn't been smug or annoying or arrogant. And it's kind of almost pleasant. Almost.

Because he's actually a really good dancer.

* * *

"Do we have to leave?" Castle practically whines. "I mean, we just got here. And after all the work I went to for the tickets and we hardly even got to dance and..."

Kate whirls around. "Castle, murder case, remember?"

"I know, but..."

"You know what?" she interrupts. "You can stay, I don't care. Apparently everyone in there is just _dying _to spend an evening with you. I'm sure you could find plenty of women to dance with. I, on the other hand, have a killer to interrogate."

"Boy, you really know how to put a damper on things, don't you?" he says.

But he follows her out, taking advantage of the opportunity to admire her figure from behind. The dress fits well, even better than he was hoping for when he selected it.

Of course, he was also hoping for more opportunities to dance with her. She was a little tense but he's pretty sure that with a couple of drinks and a few more songs, he could have loosened her up a bit. Maybe even more than a bit.

Though she made it very evident that that isn't going to happen.

Nevertheless, he's determined to keep trying. Something about her doesn't add up. There's the tough detective side and there's the empathetic side, but he's almost positive that there's something missing. A wilder side, the part of her from before her mother was murdered.

It's got to be there somewhere.

And it's only a matter of time before he finds it.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	7. 3x07 - Almost Famous

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: Thank you all for your patience as I attempt to navigate a busy semester of grad school and still keep up on writing. To those of you who have sent me prompts, thank you. I'm slowly working my way through them. _

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**3x07 – Almost Famous**

"What's got you so excited?"

"I'm going to a strip club with Beckett," Castle blurts, the words falling out without thought.

"Ooookay, and now I'm sorry I asked." Alexis cringes in reply, closing her textbook and getting to her feet. There are some things she just _doesn't_ need to know about her father.

"It's for a case," he clarifies quickly.

"Mmhmm."

"Our victim was a stripper," he protests.

"How _is_ it that you always end up on cases like this?" Alexis muses, making her way to the stairs.

Castle shrugs, already heading for the door. "No idea, but I'm not complaining."

"Of course you're not," Martha calls after him, rolling her eyes at her son's exuberance.

Castle tosses a smirk over his shoulder, practically skips out the door of the loft. He's going to a strip club with Beckett.

There's something he never thought he'd get to say.

* * *

He's going to a strip club with Beckett.

It should be exciting...and it is. Sort of. Except in all his fantasies, he never imagined they'd be going to a male strip club.

Because this is just plain awkward. He's excited to be with Kate and he always loves going undercover with her, but he's not looking forward to watching testosterone-infused men take their clothes off. Not in the slightest.

The plus side, though, is that Kate is dressed up and her hair is curled and she looks completely gorgeous with her low-cut shirt and her dark, smoky eyes. And the way she calls him 'honey,' the word rolling off of her tongue...that, he could get used to. In fact, just the sheer memory of it is already driving him crazy. And yes, he has a girlfriend and she has a boyfriend and this is just an undercover thing, but still...

She's so at ease here and it's clear that she's done this before. And probably not just undercover, considering some of her recent comments.

Maybe someday they can do this again.

Only then, maybe it won't be just an act.

* * *

Before his mind has much more of a chance to run away with that scenario, Kate is making her way out of the dressing room and away from Hans Von Monnschaft (seriously, what kind of a name _is _that anyway?) and back into the throngs of twenty-something girls who are jumping and shouting and holding wads of singles up in the air. Castle follows, fending off flailing arms and sweaty bodies as he trails Kate through the club.

Her eyes flick around the room as she walks, pausing on the new group of men who are up there dancing. Clothing is flying off and there seem to be an excessive amount of abs on the stage and Castle can't help but feel a pang of jealousy at seeing Beckett checking them out so unabashedly.

Because seriously...how is _that_ much spray-on tanner and obvious steroid usage even remotely attractive?

"Like what you see?" a male voice says suddenly, and Castle whirls around to find a male dancer stepping up in front of Kate. He stumbles to a stop behind her, catching a whiff of cologne and sweat and...whoa! Way too much skin. Because the guy is wearing the equivalent of a speedo and nothing more and he's stepping closer to Kate and speaking in a low voice and staring down her shirt, and suddenly Castle can't take it anymore.

"Hey, honey, you ready to go?" he asks, stepping up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist, an extension of their earlier ploy.

Kate stiffens noticeably and Castle does too as he realizes the position they're currently in, his chest pressed up against her back. He can just barely feel the curve of her ass against his upper thighs and the rise and fall of her rib cage as her breathing stutters and then speeds up. He can smell her perfume, feel her hair against his cheek as he speaks, and this was a terrible idea because suddenly this is anything but innocent.

But it has the desired effect because the guy backs off...though not without another once-over of Kate's figure and the promise of plenty of excitement if she gets bored with 'that guy.'

Castle's jaw clenches and he wants to go after the guy and knock some sense into him for ogling Kate like a piece of meat. But then she's whirling around, pinning him with an angry glare, and hissing, "what are you doing?"

"He was hitting on you," Castle says with a shrug, as though it was obvious.

"So?"

"So I..."

"Thought I couldn't handle it on my own?" Kate asks, eyebrow raised in a challenge. "I'm a cop, remember?"

"I know, I just..."

He trails off and Kate sighs, not in the mood to argue. Because it was a sweet gesture and she knows he meant well. And it wasn't that big of a deal, really.

Well, right up to that moment where he wrapped his arms around her from behind and her heart rate spiked at the feeling of being cradled in his embrace and surrounded by the strong lines of his body.

"Come on," she says, voice softer now, more understanding.

He wants to say more but he bites his tongue and follows her out of the club.

* * *

The ride back to the precinct is spent in silence, Kate resolutely keeping her eyes on the road as she fights back the memory of the heat of Castle's body and the strength of his biceps and the tingles that really shouldn't have spread through her veins at his touch.

Castle too doesn't speak, because no matter how badly he wants to voice his thoughts, he can't think of a single good way to explain them. Because he has no right to be, but the truth is that he was jealous. Jealous of the way the men were looking at her, jealous of all the attention she was getting.

He should be the one hitting on her.

And she should be the one invading his personal space, not the swarms of young women trying to stuff bills...and their hands...down his pants.

The only person he wants in his personal space (besides Gina, he reminds himself, because it really shouldn't be so easy to forget that he has a girlfriend) is Kate.

And she can attempt to stick her hands down his pants anytime.

* * *

_Thoughts?**  
**_


	8. 3x12 - Poof, You're Dead

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: A lot of you asked for this chapter. I hope this is what you had in mind._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**3x12 – Poof, You're Dead**

* * *

_"I wanted to thank you for not asking what was going on and for not making a big deal out of it."_

_"Not a problem."_

* * *

She smiles all the way out of the elevator and to her cruiser, glancing out of the corner of her eye to see a soft smile on Castle's face as well. He's clutching the flowers like a lifeline, like they mean everything to him right now.

They do.

Because they're from Kate. And because he just broke up with his girlfriend and he should be sad or upset or _something_, and yet all he can feel is happy because he's going out to dinner with Kate.

_She _invited _him._

And she gave him flowers.

He knows she probably meant it as just a silly extension of the case, just a magic trick she had up her sleeve. Literally.

But he's going to pretend that there was more to it than that. That she cares and she wants to see him smile and that's why she went to the trouble to dig up a bouquet of fake flowers and present them to him with a not-so-hidden smile on her face.

She may have a boyfriend, and she may not ever admit to this, but Castle is pretty sure that what he sees in her eyes when she glances over at him again is more than just respect for him as a partner. If he has to put a name to it, he'd say she kind of adores him.

It's very mutual.

* * *

The ride is silent as Kate maneuvers them through the early evening traffic, throwing the occasional glance over at Castle. He's quiet, and it's a bit worrisome. She's not used to him like this, not used to having him next to her but not talking, and it reaffirms her decision to invite him along.

He clearly needs the company tonight and, if she's completely honest with herself, she could use the companionship as well.

They catch up with the Comfort Food Truck a couple miles from the precinct, right across from Central Park. Castle still hasn't said a word, eyes glued to the sidewalk, to the buzz of pedestrians that hustle by as Kate competently steers her cruiser into a parking space.

"Come on," she murmurs as she kills the engine, reaches over to nudge him with her elbow when he still hasn't moved. "Castle."

"Hmm?"

She offers a slight smile, tilts her head to the truck parked on the street corner. "We're here."

"Right, right, yeah," he stammers, and his smile is too forced, doesn't reach his eyes.

He's still clinging to the flowers as Kate checks for traffic, opens her door and slips out of the car. Only once her door slams shut does he snap out of his stupor. Castle unfastens his seatbelt, scrambles out of the car, pausing to tenderly place the flowers on the seat, and Kate smiles, unbidden, because she actually half expected him to bring them along.

She rounds the car, meets him on the sidewalk and nudges him into step next to her as they make their way up the block, settle into the back of the line. She stands next to him with her hands in her pockets, and he's aching to reach out for her. To twine his fingers with hers, to trace the contours of her face, the long line of her neck. The sun is just beginning to sink below the city skyline but the long rays of light catch in her hair, on her skin, making it glow a soft golden color. It's beautiful.

She's beautiful.

Kate catches him staring but instead of calling him out she simply smiles to herself, fixes her eyes on the menu despite feeling his gaze burn into her. It's powerful, knowing she can capture his attention so fully simply by standing next to him on the sidewalk. But today isn't about that, so she ignores the feeling.

They order two giant helpings of mac and cheese, a basket of biscuits, and steaming mugs of hot cocoa, and carry them across the street to the park. Castle stakes out an empty bench and Kate settles in next to him, closer than she would normally sit, but for tonight she can make an exception.

They touch on a little bit of everything while they eat; her grandfather's favorite magic tricks, the case, Castle's secret wish to have an identical twin ("think how much _fun _you could have playing pranks on people"), the delicious food. Everything except the giant elephant in the metaphorical room. But he's smiling and laughing and while Kate is curious, she doesn't want to ruin the mood so she doesn't bring it up.

Eventually, though, silence falls. The containers of food are empty and they sit side by side, sipping what remains of the hot cocoa and gazing out into the park, the hustle and bustle of the city muted somewhat by the fading light.

"We broke up," he says finally, voice soft and defeated. His eyes are heavy, filled with glimpses of what almost look to be shame and embarrassment, and her heart twists in her chest.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she says softly.

He shakes his head. "I'm not. It was...there was a reason we divorced in the first place."

She rests a hand on his thigh, squeezes gently. "Still..."

"Thanks for bringing me here," he replies, dropping his hand to cover hers.

Kate wants to press for more, would be lying if she didn't admit that she was curious as to why. The fight at Le Cirque, obviously. But she has a feeling that there's more to it than that. And part of her wants to know, though she refuses to admit to the real reason that she even _cares_ about why it happened.

But that's not why they're here and she really doesn't have any right to ask that question, not here and certainly not now. So she clamps down on it, goes along with his blatant change of subject, and offers him a small smile instead.

"You're welcome."

After a few more minutes, they stand, make their way back to her cruiser. She's close to him, much closer than normal, and their shoulders kiss as they wait to cross the street, hands brushing as they walk.

She offers to drop him by the loft because she can't stand the thought of letting him go just yet, of leaving him alone with the obvious loneliness that's settled in his heart. He accepts with a nod, and this car ride is as silent as the last.

Castle is holding onto the flowers again, clutching them tightly in his fist, and Kate doesn't miss the way his gaze falls to the fake bouquet every few seconds. At one point, she almost thinks she sees a smile upturn the corners of his mouth, and she feels a swell of pride that she is able to do this for him.

That she can make him smile.

* * *

They arrive at his building and it's a long moment before Castle makes to exit the car. He doesn't want to leave. His mother and daughter are out and he doesn't want to face an empty loft. He doesn't want to be alone, not while knowing that Kate will be across town, alone in her apartment as well. But she has a boyfriend and he's only been single for a few hours and he's pretty sure that if he stays in her proximity much longer, he'll end up doing something stupid. So he forces himself to open the door and step out.

"Thanks again," he offers, raising the flowers in her direction as he plants his feet on the sidewalk, stands and shuts the door behind him.

She fumbles for the control, rolls down the window to call after him before he can disappear into his building. "Castle."

He turns, schools his features.

"See you tomorrow?"

He smiles, and this time it almost reaches his eyes. "Tomorrow."

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	9. 5x21 - Still

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: Okay, so this one actually is a date. But I'm posting it here anyway because...well, just because._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**5x21 – Still**

"Why don't you two head on home, get some rest."

Kate whirls her head around in time to see Captain Gates opening the door of Ryan and Espo's cruiser. "Sir?"

The older woman pauses, offers a small smile, and Kate is so confused by this version of her captain present today. The one who's giving them the afternoon off and who just told her to kiss Castle in broad daylight in front of everyone. The one who's willing to overlook regulations and allow them to keep working together, when Kate was sure that the moment she found out, she'd kick Castle to the curb.

Maybe she was wrong about the woman.

"Paperwork can wait, Detective," she offers with something resembling a smile.

"Thank you, sir," Kate calls after her as she slides into the car, shuts the door.

They watch the cruiser pull away, still clinging to each other for dear life. Their arms are bent at the elbows, hands twined tightly together, like nothing and no one can tear them apart. Then again, they just survived another bomb and Kate _loves _him, so maybe it makes him cocky, but Castle's feeling pretty damn invincible right about now.

"So," Kate says after a moment. "Goat cheese omelet?"

Castle looks down at her with a smile. "Sure."

She raises their joined hands in the direction of the crosswalk. "Lead the way."

* * *

They stop only briefly to remove Kate's vest and toss it in the trunk of her cruiser, opting to leave the car parked where it is and walk to the diner, because despite the tightness of her leg muscles, she really just needs to be moving right now. No more standing still.

They cross the street, make their way up the next block and then the next. Their hands are still clasped together, and Kate can see from the corner of her eye the way Castle keeps glancing over at her, as though assuring himself that she's really here and really okay.

She's sure that by tomorrow, when the fatigue has had time to fully set in, she won't be okay. But for now, she feels awake and alive and happy to be here.

And starving.

They enter the diner, Castle holding the door open and allowing Kate to go first. A delicious aroma wafts through the air as they enter, making their mouths water and their stomachs grumble. Castle can't remember the last time he ate and he knows Kate hasn't eaten all day. Hell, she hasn't even had any water since before she left the loft this morning.

A waitress shows them to their seats and only then do they disengage their hands, slide into the booth opposite each other. The young woman places menus in front of each of them, smiles as she talks about the daily specials before asking for their drink orders and promising to return shortly with water and coffee.

Castle peruses the menu, though he already knows exactly what he's going to get. It may be dinner time, but that goat cheese omelet has been calling to him all day. The waitress returns promptly with water and coffee, jots down their orders before bustling off again.

Only then does Kate finally lift her head to meet Castle's eyes, smiling over the rim of her glass as she downs the entire thing. She didn't realize how dehydrated she'd gotten, but it's been hours since she ate or drank and the coffee Castle brought back is still up in the apartment, forgotten in their desire to vacate the premises as quickly as possible, to leave the horrors of the day behind them.

Castle opens his mouth to speak, to say...anything,really...but he's cut off by the sharp ringing of Kate's cell. She fishes it out of her pocket, startles slightly when she sees 'Dad' flashing up at her from the screen. Then again, she did leave him a rather straight-forward message earlier. One that she wouldn't leave unless she was in trouble, and she can't even imagine how panicked he must be right now.

She answers the phone with a swipe of her finger across the screen. "Hey, Dad."

"Katie," he practically shouts, frantic, and it's loud enough that Castle can hear it from his place across the table.

"I'm okay, Dad."

"Are you sure, because that message..."

"It was a rough day," she admits. "Close call, but I'm okay now."

"What happened?"

"Just..." she sighs, pausing to debate the best way to downplay this for him. He doesn't need to know what happened. Doesn't need to know how close she really came. "I'm fine, Dad. Promise."

From across the booth, Castle reaches out, covers her hand with his on the tabletop. She flips hers over, twines her fingers with his, and he offers a squeeze of reassurance.

"And Rick?"

She smiles, eyes twinkling from across the table. "He's here with me right now."

"Good, good." Jim sounds skeptical still, and Kate doesn't blame him. She didn't really give him any sort of conclusive response, after all. But it'll have to do. "Well, I'm glad you're safe sweetie."

"Thanks, Dad. Maybe we can get lunch this weekend?" she asks timidly, lifting her eyes to Castle's, seeking affirmation.

He nods slightly, squeezes her hand, eyes trailing down to follow the gentle motion, fixing on the link of their fingers as though it's the only thing grounding him, the only thing holding him together right now.

It is.

Castle loses track of the conversation momentarily as images flash through his mind, images that were playing on a loop from the moment Captain Mahoney entered the apartment for the last time. Images that, while mercifully not real, will be burned into his memory for a long time.

He's guided back to reality only by the end of Kate's conversation, her murmur of "Bye, Dad," and the brush of her thumb over the soft skin on the back of Castle's hand.

He catches her eyes as she's setting her phone aside, sympathy in his gaze – probably for her father, for what he must have felt after hearing her brief yet all-to-revealing message.

"I called him earlier," she explains. "After..."

_After you left._

"Right, right," Castle says with a nod. His gaze is far away, detached, as though he can't believe today actually happened.

Neither can she. It's all so surreal still and she imagines it will be for a while.

"Castle," Kate murmurs, wiggling her fingers between his to garner his attention.

"Hmmm."

"I'm here. I'm okay."

"I know," he breathes. "I know you are. It was just..."

"Yeah."

They fall into silence before Kate speaks again. "Thank you for not giving up."

"No thanks needed," he replies, though it's so insufficient, so much less than he wants to say. But here and now is neither the place nor the time for any of that. Later, perhaps. Once they've eaten and slept.

For now, they're here to celebrate being alive. And to calm their rumbling stomachs.

Kate reaches out with her free hand, wraps it around her coffee mug, cradling it in her palm. The warmth seeps through her skin, reminds her that she's alive, that they thwarted death yet again.

She doesn't want to even consider the insurmountably high number of odds they've managed to beat, or the agonizing reality that it can't continue forever.

From the look on Castle's face, he's having the exact same realization.

* * *

Once their meal arrives, they fall into silence, shoveling food into their mouths faster than is probably socially acceptable, but to hell with manners. It's been a long day.

Throughout it all, Castle never lets go of Kate's hand, opting to eat left-handed and without using a knife, because there's no way he's letting her go right now. Or ever again.

He finishes first, devouring the entire goat cheese omelet in an embarrassingly short time, and Kate lifts her eyes a moment later to find his gaze focused on her, eyes roaming over her face, committing every detail to memory as though this is the last time he'll ever lay eyes on her.

After today, she supposes she understands his motivation, so she merely offers a wan smile, returns to her meal.

They order dessert at Castle's insistence – "we have to celebrate, Kate" – and spend the next twenty minutes sharing a sampler dessert platter, containing a spread of chocolate cake, fudge, cheesecake, tiramisu, soufflé, and some sort of ice cream and caramel-topped brownie that's slathered in whipped cream and chocolate chips. It's absolutely decadent and they wind up eating way more than they should, but after the day she's had, Kate doesn't feel bad about overindulging.

Judging by the way Castle's eyes are fixed on her lips as she licks the excess chocolate off of her fork, she has a feeling they'll work it all off later.

* * *

They do.

* * *

Afterwards, Kate finds herself in Castle's giant bathtub, relaxing back against the solid strength of his chest as the warm water seeps into her aching bones and muscles, easing the tension of the day.

As she relaxes, Castle finds that he is finally able to breathe again, the tightness in his chest easing as she sinks into him. It's comforting, feeling the weight of her on top of him, a solid reminder that she's alive. That she's still here.

Once the water has cooled, they make their way to the bed, where Castle helps her relax onto her stomach, proceeds to work the knots out of her feet and legs, kneading her sore muscles with just enough pressure to ease the worst of the pain. She feels shaky and weak, completely exhausted, but also content here in his bed as he settles in next to her, wraps her in his arms.

Kate rolls over to face him, and the way he's looking at her, gazing down on her so tenderly but with a fierce hint of possessiveness and love...

"What?" she asks.

He shakes his head, eyes dark but adoring.

"Castle."

"Hmmm?"

"You're staring."

"I can't help it," he blurts, reaching up to trace the line of her jaw with his fingertip. "I thought...earlier..."

"I know," she murmurs, reaches up to cover his hand with her own. "I know. But I'm okay, Castle."

He nods, though not convincingly, and she knows it'll be a while before he truly believes that. Before either one of them can even partially suppress the events of the day and the harsh reality of how close they came to losing it all.

Kate settles into the pillows, guides Castle's hand down to rest between them, still twined with hers as it has been most of the evening. In fact, she doesn't think they've been _not _connected in some form since she stepped off of the deactivated bomb. Not that she's in any hurry to let him go.

"Kate." His voice breaks the silence after a long minute.

She blinks, gazes up at him through fluttering lids as she fights to keep her eyes open. "Hmmm?"

"Earlier...you said..." he trails off, tentative, hesitant to bring it up again given the dire circumstances under which she spoke the words.

"Yes," she murmurs, one step ahead of him.

"What?"

"I meant it, Castle," she promises, quietly but assuredly. "So much."

He smiles then, eyes lighting up in the darkness, and she can't help but tilt her head, steal another kiss. He unlaces their fingers in favor of cupping her cheek with his palms, cradling her face with both hands as he rolls them so she's underneath him. Kate clings to his forearms as their lips and tongues meet, deep yet gentle caresses, a silent exchange of their earlier words.

When they separate, Castle leans his forehead against hers, breaths mingling in the minute space between them.

Kate meets his eyes again, tries to hold his gaze, but she's fighting a losing battle against fatigue and her eyes flicker closed. Castle eases off of her, rolls onto his side, and she comes willingly, body pliant and limp in his arms. He arranges the covers over them, presses his lips to her temple before relaxing into the bed. He realizes only now just how much of a toll today has taken on him as well; his muscles are fraught with tension, his joints stiff, and his neck and head ache from stress. But here, with Kate already drifting to sleep in his arms, he finally feels it start to fade away, the horrors of the day rolling off of him in waves with each warm exhale of air over the bare skin of his chest.

She's here. She's okay.

And she loves him.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	10. 3x22 - To Love And Die In LA

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: __This one is a little different, because the "date" itself was just mentioned in passing on the show. And then it kind of turned into a fill-in-the-blanks chapter. But somehow I've never written anything about this episode and I wanted to so...voilà._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**3x22 – To Love And Die In LA**

"We don't have to go," he says softly as she wearily sinks into the sofa, releases a long exhale and leans her head back against the cushion. "We can stay here and order in."

Kate shakes her head. She's not exactly keen on going out, but she also doesn't want to stay here and dwell on these last two days, on the loss of her mentor, her first partner, the first person to believe in her, really believe in her, on the job. She misses him. A lot. And she's exhausted. But she knows she won't sleep, not when she's still plagued with thoughts of Royce and the fact that this time, he's truly never coming back.

No, she needs to get out of here. She needs a distraction.

"No, we should. It'll...I think it'll be good."

He nods, offers a hint of a smile as he crosses to his room to get ready. Kate forces her fatigued muscles to function as she stands, makes her way to her own room. Shutting the doors behind her, she flips open her suitcase, pokes around for something to wear that's nice enough for Spago but not something she would wear on a real dinner date. Of all the times to overdo it and potentially send the wrong message, now would not be one of them. She trusts Castle not to take advantage of her.

The one she doesn't trust is herself.

* * *

The restaurant is nice. A bit over the top, but it's Castle so she expects as much. They order a bottle of wine and the food is delicious and Kate has to admit, she made the right decision by agreeing to uphold their reservation.

Castle seems to understand her need for a distraction – not as though that should surprise her since he always has been able to read her like a book – and he keeps up a steady stream of conversation throughout the meal. He's careful to stick to light topics, easy questions, enough to keep her talking without having to put much thought into her answers. It's perfect, it's exactly what she needs, and she lo – _likes _– him for it.

Likes him. Not...not that other word. Not even close.

Kate has spent the entire last year suppressing her lingering feelings for him, hiding them behind the memory of last summer, of watching him walk away with his ex-wife. It still hurts just to think about, and she has Josh anyway, so any time the smallest inkling of feelings come to the surface, she calls forth that day, forces them back into hiding.

But this trip...it's making them harder and harder to ignore. Because Castle has been nothing but sweet to her. He's offered her a place to stay, bought her meals, gone to great lengths to help her catch the killer of a man he barely knew.

And she knows why. Deep down, she knows exactly why he's here, why he insisted on accompanying her all the way across the country.

She knows, and she can't really deny it any more.

Because with everything he says and does, she's reminded more and more of all the reasons she broke up with Demming. All the reasons she wanted to go to the Hamptons with him last summer.

All the reasons she's come to care about him as more than a partner, whether she's willing to openly admit it or not.

"More wine?" he asks, tearing her from her thoughts.

Kate shakes her head awkwardly. "No thanks."

She doesn't want more alcohol. Not tonight, at least. Not when its main purpose would be to dull the pain. She refuses to let herself fall into that cycle.

Castle seems to understand – naturally – and sets the bottle aside without topping off his own glass either. She's absently pushing the remaining bites of food around her plate, no longer hungry but unable to sit still, when he speaks again.

"Dessert, or are you ready to head back to the room?"

Under any other circumstances, she'd think it was some sort of come on. And she'd probably tease him for it, roll her eyes and drawl out a 'yeah right' or 'in your dreams.' But not tonight. She's so drained, physically, mentally, and emotionally. The food is delicious, the company is really nice, but now she just wants to collapse and fall into a dreamless sleep.

The odds of that happening are slim to none, but for her own sake, she needs to at least try.

Besides, she's not sure how much longer she can keep up this façade without bursting into tears in public. Or in front of Castle.

"Let's head back," she answers, setting her fork aside and lifting her napkin to run it across her mouth one final time.

He signals the waiter, pays the bill, silently slides out of the booth behind her. When he guides her through the door with his hand on her lower back, it's all she can do to stop herself from relaxing against him, leaning into his side and just letting him carry her weight.

He would. She knows he would, because he's Castle and he cares about her and he'll stop at nothing to make her smile.

But she has a boyfriend, and no matter how much he's _not _there for her, she's not going to take advantage of Castle's willingness to help her through this. He means too much to her.

So she forces herself to remain upright, enjoying the warmth of his body so close to hers, his hand pressed gently against her lower back, guiding her out of the restaurant and to the edge of the sidewalk to catch a cab. He opens the door for her, slides in after her, and gives the cabbie the address of their hotel. He pays the fare, offers a hand to help her out, once again falls into step next to her as they make their way into the lobby. His hand again finds purchase on her lower back as he guides her into the elevator, stays there as the car lifts them to their top floor suite.

Kate feels the tears sting her eyes as they step out into the hallway, enter their room for the night. Because Castle is _here _ and he's taking care of her despite the fact that he has no obligations to do so. And it's been a long time since someone has cared for her so deeply. Even longer since she's allowed herself to be taken care of.

She knows this can't be. Not right now. But she doesn't want to lose this feeling, this newfound closeness that's settled over them tonight.

Castle shuts the doors with a click, leans back against them and allows his eyes to wander about the room. He wants to say something, anything, but he's at a loss.

"I think I'm gonna head to bed," Kate decides, breaking the silence for him. It's early, just after eight o'clock, but between the three hour time difference and the emotional rollercoaster of the last two days, she's about ready to collapse.

He nods, disappointed but understanding. "You look exhausted."

Not the words he was intending.

"Wow, Castle, you really know how to flatter a girl," she shoots back, a hint of a teasing lilt in her voice, and he can't help but grin because it's the closest she's been to smiling in a couple days and his heart flips at the sight.

Even so, he should probably apologize for his less than eloquent outburst. "Sorry, I just...I meant..."

"It's okay," she soothes. "Really. But yeah, I need some sleep."

He wants to offer her his bed, a place in his arms. Not in a sexual way. Just...as a comfort. Warmth, companionship, a hug.

But she's already walking away from him so he offers the next best thing. "If you need anything..."

Kate smiles over her shoulder, eyes tired but gracious. "Thanks, Castle."

He smiles back. "Night."

* * *

An hour later, she's still wide awake, tossing and turning in the giant, fluffy hotel bed. The noises of the city filter in through the slightly opened window, the occasional breeze rippling through the room. And yet she can still make out the faint sounds of Castle moving about in the living room. The clink of a glass on the tabletop, the soft clicking of computer keys. He must be writing, she thinks.

Regardless, it means that he's awake. And since sleep continues to eludes her, she decides she might as well keep him company.

His head snaps up when her door creaks open, and she's met by soft blue eyes and a gentle smile.

"Couldn't sleep?"

She shakes her head, pauses awkwardly by her door. She didn't really think this through beyond leaving the bedroom.

"Writing?" she asks, for the sake of preventing another awkward silence.

Castle nods, closes his laptop and sets it aside.

"You don't have to..."

"It's fine," he interjects. "I was at a stopping point anyway."

He wasn't. But for her, he can be. Because she's trying to hide it, but he can see that she's been crying. Tears still linger in her eyes and her eyelashes are clumped together in places, and he really wants to wrap her up in a hug, but he settles for simply gesturing next to him on the sofa.

She smiles, though it doesn't reach her eyes, and settles in opposite him, tucks her legs up underneath her. She's wearing a dark purple night shirt and black leggings. Her feet are bare and her hair is down, mostly styled from the day still. She looks softer like this, without as much makeup, dressed down into sleepwear.

He likes her like this.

Hell, he likes her in any form. But this...this is something he's only seen twice before. And he'll never tire of it.

Silence falls, but it's not awkward. Merely comfortable, two people drawing support and companionship from each other. Eventually, though, Kate speaks.

"What are Nikki and Rook up to?"

Castle shrugs, buying himself time to concoct an answer. Truthfully, he has them in LA on a case. Rook knew the victim, and Nikki is currently doing her best to 'comfort' him, make him forget, at least for one night.

Somehow, he doesn't think he should admit that.

"Oh, just hot on the trail of another murderer," Castle answers after a moment. It's not untrue, not in the grand scheme of things.

"Mmmm."

Silence.

Then, "Those actors...are they really playing Raley and Ochoa?"

Castle chuckles. "Guess so."

"It was creepy, right?"

"Totally."

They share a laugh as the conversation transitions into the production of the movie, the premiere date, Natalie Rhodes's whereabouts. They touch on other random topics and eventually end up back on the case, discussing what they learned today. Castle tried so hard to steer away from that topic, away from anything that might remind Kate of Royce, but it was inevitable, he supposes, that it would come up eventually.

Silence falls again, and then suddenly Kate is talking about Royce. But it's not in sadness this time. She's almost smiling, eyes brighter than he's seen them in a while, as she reminisces about the man, the friend, the mentor she lost this week.

"I can't believe I'm never gonna see him again."

It's barely more than a whisper, but it's there, and then the smile is falling from her face, and he knows he has to say something.

Something to bring the smile back to her face.

"You know what I thought when I first met you?"

She adjusts her head against her hand, elbow propped against the back of the sofa. "Hmmm."

"That you were a mystery I was never gonna solve. And even now, after all this time, I'm still amazed..." That gets her attention, and he can see the shift in her gaze, the way his words catch her slightly off guard. "...at the depths of your strength, your heart." She smiles. "And your hotness."

That earns him a shy blink as she dips her head to hide the blush that stains her cheeks.

"You're not so bad yourself, Castle," she answers, and her voice is so low, so sexy, and he's never heard her like this before. And the way she's looking at him...he wants to kiss her so badly. He won't because he knows she's vulnerable and hurting. And she has a boyfriend. He thinks.

But it doesn't stop him from thinking back to their not-so-fake undercover kiss, to what it would be like to feel her lips on his again.

Before his brain has a chance to run away with that thought, however, she's standing, excusing herself for the night (again), and closing the doors of her room behind her for the second time. He sees her unmoving shadow through the gap beneath the door, stays frozen in place, waiting for the infinitesimal possibility that she might come back out.

Castle clings to that hope until reality dawns, the fantasy falling away. She's not coming back out.

And even if she did, he's not going to take advantage of her.

He loves her far too much for that.

* * *

Kate can't decide if she's relieved or upset when his door shuts just as hers opens. Relieved because she's not going to have to decide what to do about Josh. Upset because she's lonely and hurting and could really use the comfort that she knows Castle could provide.

* * *

When she sees him the next morning, she doesn't tell him that she opened the door.

* * *

They're silent on the ride to the airport. In fact, Castle's been fairly silent since they closed the case, and it's almost unnerving. He's quiet as they wait at the gate as well, offers her the window seat when they get on the plane, but other than a few soft words, he says nothing.

Kate isn't sure if it's just the case or if it's something else...maybe something that lingers from the events of last night...but she pushes it aside for now because she's worn out and they're in public and it's really not a good time for any sort of personal conversation.

He falls asleep not long after take-off, and Kate stares at him for an inordinately long time, eyes tracing the planes of his face, the curve of his jaw, before forcing herself to look away. She's going back to New York, back to Josh, who doesn't even realize she's a mystery, has no interest in solving her. But he cares for her, and he's a nice guy, smart and hard-working. And she cares for him too.

Her eyes drift back to the man sleeping next to her. The one who also cares, who is also nice and smart and hard-working, and a fantastic father to boot. The one who knows her much better than Josh does. Knows her and still cares for her, flaws and all.

Subconsciously, she reaches into the outside pocket of her bag, extracts the letter from Royce. It's well-creased, the edges no longer smooth, a product of the numerous times she's read it now. She knows most of it from memory, can hear his words in her head as she unfolds the papers, skims ahead for the specific passage she's looking for.

_It's clear that you and Castle have something real. And you're fighting it._

He's not wrong. She knows he's not wrong. Because as much as she pretends that whatever is there isn't real, she knows better.

It _is_ real. And she's not going to be able to keep fighting it. Hell, he flew all the way across the country for her under a flimsy excuse that she can see right through.

And as annoyed as she was at first that Castle weaseled his way into coming along, she's grateful now for his presence.

She's not sure she could have done this one alone.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	11. 3x03 – Under The Gun

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**3x03 – Under The Gun**

The ride back to the cemetery is filled with Castle chattering incessantly about how much he's always wanted to go on a treasure hunt, and Kate can't help but smile right along with him because his enthusiasm is contagious. At a stoplight, she glances over at him, and he looks so boyish and excited and carefree and Kate smiles as she realizes that she's excited as well.

It's been a long time since she's felt this way and she almost forgot what it's like.

She'll never admit it, but it's part of the reason she likes having Castle around; because he brings out the sides of her she's long thought were no longer there.

Like the side of her that's secretly really excited to uncover a stash of jewels.

When they arrive at the cemetery, the shovel remains untouched, tossed aside in the partially un-dug grave. Castle jumps down into the hole to retrieve it, eagerly re-emerges and practically skips after Kate as she counts two rows up, six stones over from where someone originally started digging.

"This the one?" he asks, nodding to the stone at their feet.

Kate shrugs. "Guess we'll find out if your theory is right."

Castle passes her the shovel while he takes off his jacket and Kate takes that as an invitation to begin digging. He wants to protest when he turns back around to see her hard at work, but then he catches a glimpse of her backside as she stoops slightly to ram the shovel into the ground, and any complaint dies on his lips.

She can do all the digging if she wants, so long as he gets to sit here and enjoy the view.

* * *

Eventually, though, restlessness and excitement take over, and Castle offers to do some of the grunt work. After all, he can't exactly go on a real treasure hunt and not take part in the actual uncovering of the treasure.

He takes the shovel from her outstretched arm, hops down into the now sizeable dip as Kate clambers her way out. She wipes her sleeve across her forehead, takes a giant swig of water from the bottle she grabbed at the last minute.

When she turns around to see how things are going, she's momentarily frozen by the sight before her. Castle has rolled up his sleeves, forearms exposed, and even in the streaky shadows of the lantern light, she can see the definition in them. Her eyes travel up to his biceps, still covered by the fabric of his shirt but even so, she can see the flex of the muscles as he lifts another pile of dirt, the way the muscles of his upper back contract and relax as he tosses it aside and returns for a second load.

He pauses, takes a moment to catch his breath, and only when she lifts her eyes to his face does Kate realize that his gaze is fixed on her. And she can't even pretend that she hasn't just been caught staring at him. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment and she busies herself with adjusting the front of her shirt, brushing off a few specks of dirt.

Castle raises an eyebrow at her, a smug smile on his lips, but wisely says nothing.

Thirty seconds later, her eyes are firmly fixed on his ass and the way his jeans so perfectly hug the taut curve of his...

She shakes herself out of it as that thought crosses her mind, averts her eyes and forces herself to stop thinking about Castle that way. She's still upset at him for the stunt he pulled over the summer, and she's upset over Royce, not to mention the fact that he has a girlfriend. So she _really_ shouldn't be thinking about him this way.

But despite the warning voices in her head, she can't help but acknowledge that he is in fact attractive. And well-muscled. And easy on the eyes. And...

Thankfully, the shovel hits the ground with a large clunk just then, snapping Kate out of her dangerous train of thought and back to reality.

Castle turns to her, excited, practically jumping out of his skin as he rams the shovel against the ground again, hearing another chink of metal on metal.

"Think I found something," he announces with an excited smile, and Kate gives up all pretense then, jumps down into the newly created hole and begins kicking at the dirt with her boots. She can just see the lid of what appears to be a metal chest, and she brushes the soil aside, attempts to clear off the rest of the lid with her toes.

Castle goes to work digging down around the edges, outlining the chest as he scoops the dirt aside. Eventually he tires, passes the shovel back to Kate, and she finishes clearing out the gap around the edge of the lid, deep enough that they can open the trunk without dirt falling into it and wide enough to wedge their hands down in there for leverage.

"Do the honors?" she offers.

"Together?" he shoots back.

She shrugs, can't completely contain the smile of excitement. "Sure."

Castle flips open the latch with a sharp click and the lid lifts ever so slightly. "What if it's a dead body?" he asks suddenly.

"Like you haven't seen those before."

"Well, not like...this."

"What about the mummy?"

"Okay, but that was ancient and...cool. This will just be gross and disturbing."

"Castle, we just dug this up, I'm opening the chest."

He concedes with a huff of feigned annoyance and they position themselves on opposite sides of the chest, bending over and grasping the edges of the lid.

"Ready?" she asks, waits for his nod. "One, two, three."

They heave the chest open, the movements of the lid on the rusty hinges stilted and rough, but they manage. Kate keeps one hand on the lid just in case while Castle kneels down, moves aside the soft, tan cloth draped over the top to reveal...

"We found it!"

"That's it!"

Their exclamations are simultaneous and neither can reign in their excitement at being on a real live treasure hunt and actually finding treasure.

Before Kate can stop herself, she's releasing her hold on the heavy wooden lid and flinging her arms around Castle, wrapping him up in an excited hug. He hugs her back enthusiastically, and it doesn't really register until they disengage and step back, eyes meeting awkwardly. Because they don't...do that.

Except they just did.

"So, uh, what do we do now?" Castle asks, an attempt to clear the unease that now hangs between them.

"Dig it up the rest of the way?" Kate suggests, at a loss for any other course of action. They can't just leave it, but she also has no clue how they're going to get it out of the cemetery.

Castle shrugs, reaches for the shovel and gets back to work, deepening the trenches around the edges, unearthing enough dirt to reveal handles on the outside of the box.

It's not easy, and he's pretty sure he tweaked his back, but they manage to heave the chest up and out of the ground. The wood is old and rotting in places, and dust wafts up when they set the chest on the ground, and it smells...well, not pleasant. But they found the treasure.

"This is so neat," Castle enthuses, rummaging through the contents, millions worth of precious stones of the likes he's never seen.

Hell, he didn't even know chests of jewels existed outside of pirate movies.

"Oh, look at this one."

Kate indulges his obvious delight, reaches out to take the ruby from him and turn it over in her hands. He's right about one thing; these are pretty amazing. Large and faceted and gorgeous.

"I can keep some of these, right?" he questions, and she chuckles to herself because she should have known that question was coming.

"No, Castle."

"Why not?"

"Because they're not ours."

"But we dug them up."

"That doesn't make them ours."

"But..."

"You do realize I'm a cop, right? I have to return them to their rightful owner."

"You're not going to take even one?"

"No," she says in that 'duh' way of hers.

"Can I..."

"Castle."

He sets the gem back in place. "Right."

"Come on," she says, picking up the shovel and wedging it under one arm. "Let's see if we can get this to the car."

It's slow going and it's awkward, but they manage to get it into her trunk, out again, and into the precinct.

He pouts the whole car ride in both directions, maintaining the façade of being upset at having to return the treasure.

In reality, he doesn't really care what happens to it. Because he got to go on a treasure hunt with Beckett.

And she hugged him.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	12. 4x17 - Once Upon A Crime

_Summary: Because technically they have been "dating" since long before they decided to make it official. A series of one-shots of all of Castle and Beckett's non-dates._

_Author's Note: For Andy. Thanks for the prompt, my dear :)_

_Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the characters for a while to fill in the parts we didn't get to see on the show._

* * *

**4x17 – Once Upon A Crime**

She hasn't let go.

His mother is still speaking, arms waving in dramatic fashion as she continues to tell her story, but Castle has long since lost track of the words, his brain focused on one small fact.

Kate's still holding his hand.

Her palm is warm over his knuckles, and he's not sure if she even realizes it, but her thumb is tracing gentle strokes over his, a slow back and forth that's sending heat sizzling through his veins. He feels his palm growing sweaty, silently thanks the fact that it's face-down on his leg, the fabric of his pants absorbing the worst of it, because he's a forty year-old man and a woman holding his hand shouldn't make his body react like this.

But this isn't just any woman. This is Kate Beckett. And she's sitting next to him on his sofa, far closer than is normally considered acceptable, holding his hand as though it's the most natural thing in the world.

He casts his eyes over to her, gaze tracing her profile. The slope of her nose, the prominence of her cheekbones, the line of her jaw. The way her dark eyelashes flutter against her cheek as she blinks, lifting again to reveal the ever-changing color of her eyes, sometimes brown, sometimes greenish, almost a golden color here in the light of his living room.

She's so beautiful, and he's not entirely sure she's figured that out yet. Sure, he knows she knows it at least to an extent. He's seen her use it to her advantage on cases; shaking out her hair, swirling a cherry around glossy lips, wrapping her figure in a short, tight dress and swaying her hips in a way that captures the attention of every man in the room.

But he's not sure she realizes that she doesn't have to try. Her beauty is seamless, showing through even in the most mundane of times. When she's at the murder board, eyes flicking over the evidence as her brain works to collate the information. Here on the sofa with him as she takes in the one-woman show with genuine interest. At the precinct when she shakes her head in amusement or scrunches her nose in that adorable way because one of his off-the-wall theories isn't so far off base and she doesn't want to admit it.

Hell, she's beautiful all the time.

He's unaware that he's staring until Kate nudges him in the side with her elbow, tilting her head towards his mother, a silent 'watch the play, Castle.' He reluctantly tears his eyes away from her, forces himself to focus on his mother's production. She's currently recounting the time six-year-old Castle snuck into a backstage costume room and managed to wriggle his way into a corseted dress, and he drops his head, groans in embarrassment.

He's never going to live any of this down.

But when he glances over at Kate again, she has a soft smile on her lips, eyes wide with support for Martha and all the effort that's gone into putting this together.

And she's still holding his hand.

* * *

She lets go only when the show comes to a close, reclaiming her hand to applaud his mother. She's rising from the sofa then, stepping forward to embrace the woman, and Castle freezes, poised to stand, as he watches two of his favorite ladies smile and laugh. They're talking softly and he can't make out the words, but Kate tosses a glance over her shoulder at him, cheeks slightly pink as she briefly catches his eye.

She turns back to Martha then, continuing to chat away, so Castle gets to his feet, makes his way to Alexis, who is already beginning to move the furniture back into its usual arrangement. He slides a chair back into place, helps her with the sofa, all the while conversing about her duties as stage manager. Alexis seems to have enjoyed it, unorthodox though this whole production was, and they laugh together as his daughter regales him with a rundown of what would be the blooper reel had they been filming during rehearsals.

Eventually Alexis excuses herself, and Castle finds himself standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room. Alone. His mother is off to who knows where and Kate...she's nowhere to be found. But her jacket is still draped over the arm of the sofa, her shoes discarded in the foyer, so she's here somewhere.

He has to strongly fight the urge, the call of every muscle in his body, to go after her, to find her, maybe slide his hand into hers again. He wants to be near her, wants her to stay. Doesn't want the proximity of the evening to come to a close even though he knows that it ultimately will.

Instead, he settles for snagging their wine glasses, refilling them, hoping that the offer of a second glass will entice her into lingering for a while longer.

She reappears as he's placing the bottle back on the kitchen counter, cheeks still a lovely pink hue, from wine or something else, he's not sure.

"Hey," he offers, extending a glass to her. "More wine? If you want, I mean. If you have to go..."

She smiles gently, interrupts his fumbling as she takes the proffered glass. "Thanks."

It's awkward for a moment, him on one side of the kitchen island, her on the other, wine glasses in hand, eyes blatantly not meeting as they struggle to settle into this new...thing...that's forming between them.

Finally Castle clears his throat, speaks. "You know, most of what she said was exaggerated."

Kate catches his eyes, smiles. "I figured."

"I just...I wasn't the best behaved kid, but I wasn't like _that_," he continues, so desperate for her to understand this. He doesn't want her to think worse of him for what she's heard tonight, doesn't want it to damage what they've built. He's never cared so much before, never really had to worry about his past tarnishing a woman's opinion of him. Hell, most women he's been with were attracted to him _because of_ his past.

But this is different. Because the woman standing in front of him right now could very well be the one he spends the rest of his life with.

"Fiction, remember?" She assures him, stepping around the end of the counter and resting a hand on his forearm. His eyes follow her touch, warm and soft, lighting a fire beneath his skin as her hand travels lower, skimming his wrist, until her fingers are wrapped around his once more, thumb at the back of his hand, pads of her fingers caressing his palm. The fit is perfect, and he has to force himself to look away, meet her eyes again. "Like Nikki."

Castle nearly chokes on his wine, has to set it aside and swallow heavily to regain what remains of his composure. Because there are parts of the books – including very explicit portions – that are largely based on what he hopes will someday cease to be fictional.

From the way she's looking at him, eyebrow raised, amusement dancing through the shimmering liquid of her eyes, he's pretty sure she knows.

She knows, and she's still not letting go of his hand.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


End file.
